Opening up......Part 1

I wonder how many bloggers out there use their real identities and how many don't??

As I get more and more experience at posting my thoughts, writings and photos; the original reluctance to put too much personal data on my pages has started to ebb a bit. Much in the same way a writer introduces readers to the characters in the story and develops those characters over time, I am slowly giving more and more glimpses into my family's and my life's inner workings and events. Is this something that all bloggers go through?? Are most web authors hesitant to divulge their personal information? I am interested in how many bloggers use psuedonyms. How many of them are concealing their true identities and locations to avoid having webtrolls invade their private lives? Not that we have any control over the countless trolls that are lurking out there in web-la-la-land, but I've seen some of the havoc these trolls can create. I personnally, am not bothered by the kind of people that are doing this, as I have grown up with seven older brothers and am quite thick-skinned.

However, I have seen how it affects some of the ladies who post such great stuff. Reading some of the comments posted on other sites (and watching a vblog of one young lady's courageous response to some of them) by trolls, I just rue the day when some unsavory browser posts his filth to or about one of my loved ones. My family is the only thing in my life that can be used to provoke me to unsavory behavior these days. It (my family) is the only thing I cherish more than my life itself. But, in all my fear of having someone else disrespect my family or use any information I post on my blogs against my family, I owe it to my family and myself to write from my heart and share with the blogging community the boundless euphoria that I call home and all the wonderful players in the drama unfolding in that home.

So with no further ado, I introduce one of the star attractions for my soul's relaxation, my sister. She is the one on the right, I am in the middle and my mother is on the left. She is wonderful. She is artistic and funny. She can cook, create, inspire and leap tall buildings in a single bound. She does custom furniture, makes dolls, and decorates interiors. She goes out of her way to reach out to everyone in our family at different times in a methodical rotating time schedule. She never misses a birthday or anniversary. She writes letters, too! Her imagination knows no bounds. Besides the picture frame with the portraits of myself and kids, she made me my favorite coffee cup. It came complete with portraits of both my kids, my favorite beer, my local rugby team logo, my favorite sport (soccer), my "name" (I've gone by Jerry for as long as I can remember), one of my nicknames and she signed and dated it. A master piece if ever I saw one. I will keep it forever (in case she becomes famous!!). Hand decorated with TLC, she had it glazed and fired in a local kiln for Xmas two years ago. I thought it had gotten stolen three weeks ago in Austin, Texas; but finally found it this past Monday. It was like finding gold in a riverbed. WOO HOO!!! She is not just my only sister, but my favorite sibling. She doesn't even know I have a blog site here (although my daughter just found me!!) on which I am singing her praises. So to answer some of the questions from some of my interested readers and fellow bloggers, my name is NOT Stu Pidasso. It is NOT Stewart Pidasso. It is NOT Jerry, but I have been called Jerry for most of my life. My name (in reverse to throw off the search engines) is etihW werdnA navE dlareG. I hope I have not offended anyone, I am just concerned about internet bad guys.

The name is Zilla....Shroomzilla

OH,
The words, they swirl, they flow,
nimble fingers dosey-doh,
typing frantic by alarm clock glow,
until my work is done, you know.
now time to greet my soft pillow,
and off to work again I go,
to try to earn my weekly dough,
eagerly waiting the whistle blow,
like every other working Joe.
but such is life, ain't it bro?
can I get a big "FO' SHO' "?


This may come as a surprise, but I'd walk a mile for a new nickname.

While living in Fort Worth, I was feeding my secret rugby addiction in the evenings after work. I would go to the northwest side of downtown Fort Worth (the seedy side, where all the rugby players loiter between Scrabble games and Ellen airings) and engage in lots of anonymous, unprotected touch rugby. I was becoming a regular there and all the other addicts were getting used to me being around. After one particular evening of some really hot, wet touch rugby, I was taking the post-practice recovery pretty hard. We played at a park that was kind of ignored by the parks department, because they were scared of the types of people who frequented the area (ruggers' reputations precede them many places, being the vicious scrabble players and dancers that they are), consequently the grass was unkempt and quite long. After my customary "blowing chunks" display, I laid down (collapsed?) beneath the massive oak tree on the side of the field and tried to catch my breath (while picturing myself dancing with Ellen and Mama Kat on their award winning episode, "Blogging ideas for keeping lunatics entertained). All the rest of the "recovering" rugby addicts, were discussing which bar we were going to grace with our support group meeting. They wanted to, finally, invite me along for the meeting. It was a huge break through for me, as I was at last being accepted by my peers. So, there they were looking for me, as I lay under the oak tree in the long grass; and I could hear one of the guys (Fuen-dog) ask, "Where is that new guy?". To which another answered, "Maybe he is behind the trunk of that tree over there by that giant mushroom"?! That giant mushroom was all you could see of me and my belly over the top of the tall grass.

And that's how I got the nickname "Shroom".

This writer's workshop production has been brought to you by the letter "O", and the numbers four, two and zero!

For more fun, check out this weeks Caption Contest below, Mama Kat's for the Writers' Workshop, and Seven Clown Circus for Wordful Wednesdays.